


you'd never guess, kid, but we're really come far

by birdlord5000



Category: Blaseball (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, null team, set immediately post season 10
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:27:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27646151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/birdlord5000/pseuds/birdlord5000
Summary: They say there's a way to talk to players on the Null Team. Sutton Dreamy wants to keep her friend updated on current events.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 16





	you'd never guess, kid, but we're really come far

**Author's Note:**

> hi this fic is basically a love letter to the Null Team twitter @NullTeam1 and also a dumping ground for Crabs feelings. title is shamelessly stolen from Combs D. (by Tillman Henderson) from the Away Games album

The air is full of mist from a late afternoon rainstorm when Sutton Dreamy picks up the receiver of the pay phone behind the convenience store. She loads up the coin slot with three quarters, six pennies, and a toonie and holds down the zero until the phone starts to dial on its own. 

_ "Thank you for calling the Null Team Switchboard. To speak with a player, press one. For more information, press two. To hang up, hang up"  _

Sutton presses one.

The Telephone twins were the first to discover the switchboard, to no one's surprise. It was, effectively, something between a seance and a customer service hotline. Pay enough and at the right time, and you could call someone who had been incinerated.

_ "Clearly speak or type the name of the player who you wish to contact. Please note that released and ascended players are not available at this time."  _

She winces at the reminder and clears her throat. "Combs Duende" 

_ "Your call is being connected. Please hold." _

A warped and tinny ska cover of a song she vaguely recognizes comes through the line just a little too loudly. Sutton holds the phone away from her ear and almost doesn’t hear Combs's  _ "Hello?" _

"Combs?" she says "It's me, Sutton. Dreamy. Can you hear me?"

_ "I hear you, dream girl. It's good to hear your voice. What's up?" _

"It's…” Sutton sucks air through her teeth. "The Crabs. We won our third championship.” 

_ “You ascended? Tell me what it’s like up there!”  _

"I can’t.” Sutton tugs on the phone’s cord. It’s mysteriously sticky, and she winces as she wipes her hand on her shorts. “A couple of us got traded onto the Fridays just as we were leaving. Blessing stuff, you know. It's me, Nagomi, and MoCo." 

_ “Oh…” _

“There are reports from astronomers sometimes. Scores. But I haven’t heard from any of our teammates.”

_ “That must suck, I’m sorry Sutton.” _

Sutton shrugs before she realizes that Combs can’t see it. “At least it’s not everyone.”

_ "That’s right! How are you guys liking Hawai’i?" _

"It's... it's just different, I guess. The ocean here is warmer. Nagomi still doesn't really talk about her feelings, but I think she's glad to be back. She used to dream about warm water a lot, and now she goes swimming every morning. MoCo is having a hard time being away from home, but they're managing it. They’re flying the Montgomery County representatives out on a weekly basis and calling it a vacation."

_ "And you?" _

Sutton sighs. "Combs, I don't remember anything before blaseball. There are some people who say that you created me through some kind of thought experiment, and some who say I was a dream that was felt so deeply that it became real. It could be that neither of those things are true. It doesn’t matter. It feels like I’ve been playing blaseball for my entire life, and that whole time I was playing for the Crabs. Of course anything different is going to feel weird, but knowing that doesn’t stop it from feeling weird. I miss the rest of the team."

_ "Even Tillman?" _

"Fuck Tillman,” she deadpans. “He's alive again, so I'm allowed to not miss him."

Combs laughs, and the sound warbles through the speaker. 

"If it were just me and him left with everyone else ascended, I think I would have to steal all of his left shoes and go throw them in a river, or something."

_ "When he was here, I tried to get him to sing that song he wrote about me, but he was too embarrassed. he kept making up excuses about not having the right backing track, even when I said that I would accompany him with my combs."  _ Distantly, a robotic voice pipes in “ _ You’re fucking dead, kiddo.” _

“What an asshole. One of a kind. I hope he's enjoying Charleston.” 

_ "Can't be much worse than the Hall, so I'm sure he'll be fine." _

"Is it bad there?"

_ "It's not bad, it's just hard to think straight. If you try to concentrate on your surroundings for too long you kinda go crosseyed and give yourself a headache. It feels like a bad dream.” _

“There are a lot of kinds of bad dreams,” Sutton says quietly.

_ “Ha! You would know, wouldn’t you?”  _ Combs hums into the receiver for a minute.  _ “It’s like the kind of dream where there’s that little itch in the back of your head that what you’re doing makes no sense, but you’re caught up in the flow of what’s happening and you can’t stop. Does that make sense?” _

“Perfect sense.”

“ _ Your connection is waning. _ ” The same robotic voice that had greeted her at the beginning of the call cut through any response that Combs might have had. “ _ Please finish your call. _ ”

“Shit.” Sutton kicks the ground. “I didn’t know that this thing had a time limit. Uh, it was nice talking to you, I’ll call back when I can.”

_ “I’ll look forward to it. Just don’t let me see you down here, okay?” _

“Well, RIV to you, but I’m different, so you don’t have to worry about that.” They both laugh. “Okay, I love you Combs, talk to you soon.”

_ “Love you too, dream girl.” _

The line cut to static for a second, then--

_ Your call has been terminated! Please rate your satisfaction with this call between one and five. Have a Nullderful day! _

Sutton punches a number at random.

_ Seven is not between one and five, but we appreciate the thought. Have a Nullderful day! _

The line fades to static again before cutting out completely. She drops the receiver and lets it swing back and forth on its line. In the sky, the sun has reappeared just in time for sunset.


End file.
